Eternal
by sototallyjo
Summary: Broken. That's it; nothing else. Her worthless pieces are scattered everywhere, and she doesn't believe that someone will come pick them up and mend her. She doesn't know what love is anymore. He'll teach her.
1. Prologue

Eternal

**A/N: Beta'd by the lovely WiseGirl1999. I don't own anything but my insanity.**  


Most of the time, she doesn't mind those quiet evenings basked in soft, yellow candlelight when the electricity goes out. Candlelight gave everything an ethereal glow, as if everything was just replaced with something from another world. It was just like from those stories her father used to tell her little sister, where people were always happy and smiling. It is at these times, with her sister playing with her hair in the partial darkness, and their father humming a soft tune, that Katniss feels free to think and to wonder about new, and better, tomorrows. Where there are no people whose lives depend on hurting others. Where there is no cruel, insatiable hunger for violence. Where there is no poverty and judgement based on social status. Where there is only infinite happiness.

Katniss hopes she can find such a better world one day, as even in her childish mind she knows that her life now isn't well. She knows danger looms and leers around every corner. But, the 11-year old still dreams for love. Just look at her parents! Look how happy they are, and that's just because they have each other for support and motivation to keep on surviving. Not living, not really, no. Not while the threat of death and starvation is there every single day of their lives.

She is at least wise enough not to voice these wistful thoughts aloud. Either the government will come shoot her for treason, because apparently she would be saying that the government is bad, in a 'veiled comment' (at least that's what her father once said), or she would be lectured by her mother for thinking of useless things that won't ever help her in the future and that she should focus on more important things, such as school.

One particular evening, however, she does mention her thoughts, for she hopes to hear from her father that, yes, she has the right to hope. And she waits for the response, whatever it may be.

But she is not met with a soft smile from her father, or an exasperated look from her mother, or not even simple sweet silence. No. She is met with the loud crack of a gunshot, breaking through the unusual peacefulness of the Seam. And then there are several more after that and people scream.

Her father immediately jumps up, and heatedly whispers instructions to a confused Primrose and Katniss, and their startled mother. They move to the cramped bedroom and sit quietly in the darkness. She hears the front door burst open, hears her father tell her and her sister to run, but all she really hears is her pounding heart as she runs, and runs, and runs with her sister clutching her hand. But then she hears her sister cry and she stops, and she looks back, and she screams. She watched as her sister slipped limply to the ground, the front of her nightdress splattered red, before she broke out running. Running away from the gunshots, away from the screaming, away from her family.

It is that unassuming night that Katniss loses all of her hope. It is the next week, when she stands in front of three wooden boxes, in the grey wasteland of death and sadness, and weeps, that she stops to wonder at the world. It is when she is sent to the communal home that she forgets how to love, and how it feels to be loved by another. It is when she relives that fateful night while she sleeps that she loses the lingering remains of thoughts of better tomorrows and infinite happiness. She becomes a shell of the cheerful, young girl she was before, and she stops to speak, because what's the point if no one cares. She sees other kids play and laugh but she seizes to make noise. She doesn't scream when that cruel man hits her, or cries when other orphans tease her, or even laugh when that old drunk they have as a victor throws up on that barely tolerable escort's wig on Reaping Day. She has become a cynical, unhappy person who feels so guilty for living when her family couldn't. That she didn't try hard enough. But really, what could she have done?

She now hates candlelight, because it symbolises the end of her bliss.

But she does go on. She doesn't have companionship or love or need for survival, but she does go on. Although she has no will to live, she has no hope, something wills her to keep on going, just maybe for a little longer. She goes on for four, five years when it comes. Her new tomorrow has arrived. And it is in the form of a blue-eyed, blond, blushing boy and (most) of his family.

**A/N: Reviews are love y'all.**


	2. New Beginnings

A/N: Thanks to all readers, reviewers and followers.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but my insanity. That is all.

I apologize for any mistakes, this is an unbeta'd chapter .

Chapter 2.

Peeta never, never in his short sweet sixteen years of life, imagined having this strange conversation with his soft-spoken old father. Sure, he knows his parents always wanted a daughter, but his father's solution to that void in their lives is merely insane. Adoption? That's as rare as The Games ending or Haymitch Abernathy marrying the District Twelve escort, Miss Trinket. On the other hand, Peeta is always striving to try and make a difference in this miserable world of theirs... Wouldn't adopting a poor, neglected child be the ultimate chance to do so? Peeta isn't much of a rebel, but he's sure this will show the 'mighty' Capitol that people still can be happy, no matter how hard they try to do the opposite.

"Son, I need your opinion on this. If this could help your mother be less, ah, intemperate towards you, it may be the solution."

"Dad, I don't know. I mean, what about all the necessary documents you have to complete? The system has to be rigged too; it will probably take ages to complete the process."

Mr. Mellark then gives a look to Peeta; one of complete content and calm, and he says with a smile to his neglected son:"Let's get going then."

* * *

She doesn't do much during the weekends, for she doesn't have any friends to talk to, or activities or sports to take part in. All she does on those lonely Saturdays is lie in her dilapidated, worn bed and stare at the ceiling and unwillingly replay bloody memories inside her head. Sundays are less of a bore, because that's when the Home Mother deals out chores to all the orphans, and because she is one of the older children, she usually gets enough to keep her busy from sunrise to sunset.

Any normal child should be happy when they finish with their weekly duties, but not Katniss. She dreads Sunday nights more than any other, because that is when The Mother's husband comes to deal out beatings. And he only has one victim: Mute Katniss Everdeen. Every week he has another excuse, an accusation of a false wrongdoing, to come and lash out his problems on her fragile, bony body. She suspects he chooses her every time because she does not make a sound when he strikes with his fists, whip or club; everyone knows of her silent ways after all. After this ritual, the cycle starts again: School, eat, sleep, repeat.

It is because of these lonesome, uneventful weekends that Katniss is hugely surprised when a younger orphan comes to find her one Saturday morning. She tells Katniss that there is a man here that wants to see all of the female residents of The Home. This shocks her even more, as this has never happened before, not that she knows of, at least. Nevertheless, she gets up, straightens her slightly tattered, grey dress and follows the girl down the corridor, towards the Mess Hall.

* * *

He starts when he sees her. An idiotic reaction, as he does know she calls this dreary place home. Hell, everyone in the district knows because of the gossip; she was a hot topic for at least a year after the incident. Shootings don't happen often in Twelve, so it's easy to see why, along with her sudden refusal to make word or sound. He can't blame her for not wanting to speak or her sudden change in personality. He is saddened, however, because it is likely she will never let another melodious note come forth from her lips, never bless the ears of another with the beauty of her angelic singing. So, as he watches her line up along with the other girls, he can't help but feel an idea forming at the back of his head; a completely insane one, at that. But, who ever said he was sane? He is in love with a mute girl who he doubts knows he exists. He turns to his father, and sees the contemplative look on his face, as if he is examining each and every one of them from head to toe. If it were anyone else doing so, Peeta would be disgusted, but his father has a permanent type of kindness imprinted on his face that makes this seem loving in a way. As if he thinks and loves every single little girl in this room as his own already.

"Dad, how old must she be?" Peeta asks cautiously, already regretting his actions. Mr. Mellark, completely lost in his thoughts, doesn't even look at Peeta as he answers with another question: "Who, Peeta?"

Peeta realizes his father isn't going to pay him any attention now, it seems, and discards his little plan quickly, regretfully while replying with a dismissive "Nevermind,". He turns back to see the last few girls line up. The falsely sweet, plump lady who led them inside, and who seems to be the head of the Home, then turns to them. "Well, that's all of my girls then!" she quips, "How would you like to continue, Sir?"

Mr. Mellark's eyes quickly scan over the small crowd one more time, and Peeta sees that he suddenly flinches, like he saw something horrible. Peeta, curious of his father's sudden reaction, follows his line of sight and the answer dawns on him as he sees Katniss.

"Dad?"he asks quietly, and wonders what his father must be thinking

This seems to snap him out of some sort of reverie, and the older man turns to his son, uncharacteristically on edge.

"Is that Katniss Everdeen?"he asks, and Peeta nods slowly, and raises an eyebrow. The baker then starts to smile, pats his son's back and says something that makes Peeta wonder if his father could read minds:

"She's coming home"


End file.
